Page 3 of A Game as Old as Time

Never saw this dog before.

“It’s OK.” He bent down and gave a gentle pet to the corgi, which calmed at his touch. “She probably just enjoys the terrible smell coming out of this bag.”

He glanced up, the sun outlining the girl’s silhouette. Her hazel eyesshimmered in the reflection of the rays, and her toned legs straightened as he rose.

Who is that!?

“Sorry,” she said softly, still working hard to corral the small but clearly strong little dog.

“It’s…” he hesitated, watching her long brunette hair, which was swept into a ponytail, sway as she resumed her run past him.

His eyes followed a small bead of sweat that ran down her olive neck when she turned and struggled once more with the leash. He inhaled as the sparkle of moisture ran down her chest.

Damn, she is hot.

He finally got enough wind into his lungs to yell after her. “I mean, it’s OK!” She glanced only briefly back at him before continuing down the street at a full sprint.

“Pretty dog!” he shouted. “I mean…”

Not as pretty as you, though.

He was mumbling to himself softly, unable to pull his gaze off the girl as she sped away.

“Gunner!” interrupted a voice from inside the house. “Dinner is ready!” He grabbed his bag but could not help but take one more look at the girl as she disappeared around the corner.

Who was that!?

He swung open the door to the split-level house. The air conditioning hit his body so hard that it instantly sent a chill up his side.

“Did you get the mail?” The woman’s familiar voice, wafting out from the kitchen, was the calming sound that Gunner needed.

“Yeah, Mom, I got it.”

He made his way in, placing the mail down on the table and trying not to make eye contact with her as he kissed her on the cheek. The smell of her lemon chicken made his mouth water as he watched her cut a piece and place it on a plate for him.

“Thanks, Mom,” he whispered, forcing a smile as he grabbed some potatoes.

“You not eating with us?” His sister’s shriek was less welcome. Her sea blue eyes shot daggers at him as she moved a strand of her light brown hair away from her face and took a seat at the table. “It would be nice to have a family dinner for once.”

Family dinner.

Gunner kept his head down and slid around the table. The plate was now heavy in his hand as he fought to avoid the picture hanging on the living room wall.

There are no more family dinners.

His father’s stare from the portrait was burning into his skin. The family photo of their vacation in the mountains was just another taunting image he had to avoid today.

“Peyton, be nice to your brother,” his mom snipped, her empathetic gaze locked on him with concern. “She is right, though, Gunner. It would be nice to eat together tonight.”

Yeah…

He clicked his bottom jaw, still refusing to look at the picture on the wall.

“I...” He tried to catch his breath, but it refused to fill his lungs. “I have to get some stuff ready for school next week, sorry.”

Their eyes followed him as he dashed up the stairs and out of sight. His chest had ballooned once more, and he felt like it might explode with each step he took.

**********

---